*CHAPTER II.*
_*BLETSOE MANOR-HOUSE.*_
The manor-house of Bletsoe stood on the north side of the parish churchof St. Margaret, about a mile from the point where the river makes asharp bend from east to south. Of the manor-house, and of the castlewhich succeeded it, no traces remain, but portions of a seventeenthcentury mansion, now a farm-house, mark its site. The Pateshulles hadcome into Bedfordshire from Staffordshire, where is situated the villageof Pateshulle, from which they took their name. From them Bletsoepassed to the De Beauchamps, another branch of the family to which Ralphbelonged. Their heiress married into the family of St. John, whopossess Bletsoe to this day.
But in the early part of the thirteenth century, when the Pateshullesfirst possessed it, Bletsoe was but a small place, not even fortified,till in 1327, more than a century later, John de Pateshulle obtainedfrom the king a license to crenellate his mansion--that is, to erectdefensive parapets on the walls.
The house to which Sir Ralph de Beauchamp made his way was thereforebuilt in the usual fashion of a gentleman's residence at thatperiod--timber-framed, and of no architectural pretensions. At one endof a central hall were the private apartments of the family, at theother the domestic offices and the rooms of the servants and retainers.In front of the hall was a gate-house, where a porter watchedcontinually in his lodge; and from this gate-house flanking woodenpalisades ran on either side to the private apartments and servants'offices, enclosing a small courtyard.
As Ralph rode through the gate, a round, white-haired face peeped fromthe lodge door.
"Soho! Dicky Dumpling," cried the young knight, springing from his graymare with a ringing of his spurs upon the pavement.
The individual thus accosted emerged from the doorway of his dwelling.Many years of service and of good living in the porter's lodge of the DePateshulles, combined with very little active exercise, had causedDicky's figure to assume the rotund proportions not inaptly expressed bythe nickname by which he was universally known. When he perceived SirRalph, his broad countenance lighted up with a grin of satisfaction,which caused his twinkling eyes almost to disappear among wrinkles offat, and he waddled forward with as much alacrity as he was capable ofand seized the horse's bridle. As he did so, his eyes rested on Ralph'sstill moist and mire-stained surcoat and dripping hose.
"By St. Dunstan!" exclaimed the old servitor, speaking with the freedomof having known Ralph ever since the latter was a page in his uncle SirWilliam's service, and came often in his train to Bletsoe Manor--"by St.Dunstan, Sir Knight, and beshrew me if I don't think you choose a coldseason to go swimming in the Ouse at flood time!"
"You speak with your usual wisdom, O Dumpling mine," responded Ralph,laughing; "but I've been a-fishing."
Dumpling opened his wide mouth to it fullest extent.
"A-fishing, good my lord?"
"Ay, a-fishing; and I've caught a larger and a fatter pike than ever yetgladdened your eyes and made that huge mouth of thine water, and with afiner set of teeth than you have, after all the hard work you have givenyours. There has been bad and bloody work at St. Alban's, and freshfoul deeds have been done by yon devil in human form of Bedford. You canhear more anon, if your curiosity can drive your fat carcass as far downthe village as Goodman Hodge's cottage. I cannot tarry to tell theemore. Say, Dickon, is your lord within?"
It was now Dumpling's turn to have a joke. His face assumed a mockexpression of the utmost gravity, belied by the twinkle of his merrylittle eyes. He stood on tiptoe, and spoke in a low voice close toRalph's ear.
"My lord went forth an hour ago to fly a new falcon he has just bought.He will return at noon to dine. I can smell even now the good andsavoury odours that arise from the spit. But I'll warrant me that themeat is not yet done to a turn, and that you have yet time. Hist!"
Whereupon he laid his hand on the young knight's arm, and with finger onhis lips drew him from under the gate-house arch, and pointed to thefarther corner of the court-yard.
Under the windows of the Lord of Bletsoe's apartments a sort of gardenhad been railed off from the rest of the court-yard, so as to besomewhat private. Out in this garden, in the bright January sunshine,stood a tall and graceful girl engaged in nailing up some sort ofcreeper round the windows. Her long arms--bare to their full length,for the long loose sleeves of the period had slipped up to hershoulders--were stretched above her head in order that she might reachher work. Her small, delicate head, which was uncovered, was thrownback as she looked up at the wall, and from it thick masses of brownhair waved down her shoulders. She had evidently been tempted out bythe sunshine to do a little winter gardening, and wore neither filletnor mantle, while the rather tight robe of the period, clinging to herfigure, set off admirably her tall stately form, just budding into thefull maturity of young womanhood.
There came a clanking of armed heels and the rattle of a scabbard overthe stones of the court-yard, and the young lady turned sharply round.A smile of recognition and a deep flush passed together across her fairface. The next moment she glanced back at the half-open door of aturret staircase close at hand, evidently communicating with the privateapartments above, and made a movement as if to flee.
But Ralph was too quick for her. In an instant he had vaulted the lowfence, and gained her side, so that common courtesy, if no strongermotive, obliged her to remain. Then he caught her by both hands andmade as if he would kiss her; but she shook her head.
"Aliva, my heart's darling!" he exclaimed; "I prithee tell me what iswrong this morning? You seem not glad to see me. Have I frightened youin coming on you so suddenly?" he added, half jesting.
The maiden's lips curled bewitchingly.
"A daughter of the De Pateshulles has yet to learn what fear is," shereplied; "and I warrant you could not teach it me, Ralph, either inperson or in practice," she added. And then the smile died away, andthe grave expression stole over her face immediately.
"But, my ladye fair, I would fain have you overjoyed to see me thismorning, for I bring news which will perhaps lead your father to lookmore favourably on my suit," continued Ralph. "But perchance that isnews you would therefore be ill-pleased to hear," he added.
Aliva tossed her head with a laugh in her eyes.
"Try me, Sir Knight," she said--"say on your news," and her face lit upagain with pleasure.
"One point in my fate still remains unchanged," Ralph went on. "Asoldier of fortune I am, and such I must continue; there is no freshnews on that score. If you will wed me, dear heart, you will still haveto wed one who must depend on his own right arm. But now I see a chancebefore me of exerting that right arm."
For the moment, however, the member to which he alluded had found itsway round Aliva's waist, and did not appear to exert itself any furtherfor the time being.
"Now that I have received my knightly rank," Ralph continued, "I have ahope, also, of active service. The king, as I have lately heard,meditates an expedition across the Border to punish the Scots, and agreat council of the nation is to be summoned to meet at Northampton inthe summer. When once the business is arranged, and the royal forcesset forth for the north, methinks I am sure of a good post. My uncle'sweight and interest have not been utterly lost, though he has beendriven from the home of our ancestors. When he begs for a command for aDe Beauchamp, the king surely cannot say him nay. And then, when thewar is over, when we have taught the Scots a lesson, in a few months Ishall come again, my Aliva, and come no longer penniless and unknown,but with rank, position, the promise of further employment, and perhaps,if fortune favours me--for I will do all man can dare to do--with somedeed of glory, some honour not unworthy to lay at your feet as awedding-gift. Oh say, Aliva, your father will hearken then?"
Aliva had not spoken, had not interrupted him. She stood, her eyes caston the ground, a fierce struggle going on within her. As a daughter,she felt that she ought not to have allowed this stolen interviewagainst her father's wishes.
She ought to have fled by theturret-stair, with merely a courteous salutation for her visitor. Yetthere he stood, this penniless young knight, by her side, his arm roundher waist, and his large gray eyes gazing with devotion and love intoher face. Moreover, he was telling her of a soldier's duties; he spokeof war and danger. What could she do? She was but a woman, warm-heartedand also of impulsive nature. The court-yard was clear, for DickyDumpling had hobbled off to the stables with the gray mare. For allanswer she laid her head upon his shoulder and her right hand sought hisleft--the one, be it remembered, that was disengaged.
It was but for a moment, however, and then it was not only maidenlyinstinct which made her draw herself free from his embrace.
"Ugh!" she exclaimed; "where in the name of all that's marvellous haveyou been this morning, Ralph? You are dripping wet, or at leastanything but dry!"
"Have no fear, lady; I have had no worse encounter than one with our oldriver this morning, and I crave your forgiveness for thus presentingmyself, for time brooked no delay. But I bear evil tidings for the earsof a devout daughter of Holy Church," he continued; and he told her thestory of De Breaute's impious raid upon St. Alban's Abbey.
The maiden listened horror-stricken, and when he had ended, pressed herfingers to her eyes, as if to shut out the horrible scene he hadconjured up.
"O Mother of God!" she exclaimed, in a low shuddering voice, as if toherself. "And it is with one of this family of spoilers of churches andmurderers of the servants of holy men that my father would have me wed!"
Ralph drew back, astonished at her words.
"Aliva! what say you? You are dreaming! Wed with a De Breaute? Neverwhile I draw breath; by the holy Cross I swear it. Your father! hespeaks in sorry jest or in madness. And besides, the scoundrel Fulkehas a wife already--that ill-fated Lady Margaret de Ripariis, affiancedat one time to my uncle, Sir William, and forced against her will into amarriage with Fulke by our late king. Aliva, speak, I conjure you.What mean you by such words?"
"Alas!" replied the maiden, hesitatingly and mournfully, and answeringonly the latter part of her lover's question, "my father knows full wellthe sad history of the Lady Margaret, and ofttimes hath he said, more injest than in earnest I trust, that after all the lady has become the_chatelaine_ of Bedford Castle, and that since your noble uncle has beenturned out, she did well to marry with the man who has got inside--"
"Peace, my sweetest Aliva," interrupted Ralph impetuously. "Speak notof that unfortunate Lady Margaret. But tell me, I beseech thee, whatyour father means by joining your name with one of the house of DeBreaute."
The Lady Aliva drew herself together, as with an effort.
"Nay, I would not have spoken--the name escaped me when you spake of theoutrage on the church--forget--"
She stopped short, her voice breaking. The excitement of thisunexpected meeting with the man she loved, the news that he was about toleave her for war and danger, the sweet moment in which she had allowedhim to clasp her in his arms, the fearful tale of slaughter he hadunfolded, which brought back suddenly to her mind, with the mention ofthe name of De Breaute, the fate that was proposed for her, and whichshe had well-nigh forgotten in her happiness of finding herself byRalph's side once more,--all these emotions proved too much for her.Bursting into a flood of tears, she made for the turret door, and, inspite of the young knight's effort to detain her, disappeared up thestairs.
Ralph, stunned and mystified, was staring at the door which had closedbehind her, when he heard a wheezing at his elbow.
"Sir Knight, the pasty is done brown and the cook is ready to serve up,and from the gate-house window I see my lord herding his falcons, andpreparing to return," said Dicky Dumpling's voice.
It aroused Ralph as from a dream. Pressing a piece of money into theporter's fat palm, he hastened to fetch his mare from the stable, andmounting her, rode away with a heavy heart through the gate of BletsoeCastle.
Dicky Dumpling looked after him and shook his head.
"He comes with a jest, and he goes without a word! Things look ill, Itrow. 'Laugh and grow fat' is my motto, laugh and grow fat! Plague onthat lazy scullion! why lingers he so long with my dinner?"
The Robber Baron of Bedford Castle Page 2
